


exulansis

by deanssammy (babylxxrry)



Series: Christmas Gifts 2017 [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 03:37:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13138266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babylxxrry/pseuds/deanssammy
Summary: exulansis: n. the tendency to give up trying to talk about an experience because people are unable to relate to it—whether through envy or pity or simple foreignness—which allows it to drift away from the rest of your life story, until the memory itself feels out of place, almost mythical, wandering restlessly in the fog, no longer even looking for a place to land.sam doesn't know how to explainit.





	exulansis

**Author's Note:**

> HI ELA this is your gift you wanted angst i hope i delivered  
> merry christmas <3  
> 

sam finds that it’s hard to explain the pain. it’s hard to describe the way it’s the sharp, stinging pain people might associate with _it_ , but it’s not just that. it’s settled into his body, into his very being, and he should be used to it, but he isn’t, and every time it hits him anew, it’s like he’s both numb and on fire at the same time.

it’s hard to explain to the therapist he visits a couple times, and as much as he’d tried to understand, sam finds that it’s too hard to put _it_ into words. it’s not hard to verbalize what _it_ is, but it’s hard to describe the way it’s affected him.

it’s hard to explain to anyone he’s come across that’s tried to help. jess, in particular, had tried, she really had, but something like _it_? there’s no way to describe it. no one can understand it.

not even dean gets it. he’s the closest, sam knows, but not even dean knows the extent of _it_. sam’s tried, before, to explain the ache, the longing, the wishing and crying when he was younger, the bargaining when he got older, the muted acceptance he’s settled into now, and he thinks dean understands, to an extent, but he knows it’s too complex and multi-faceted to completely explain.

so he doesn’t.

he stops talking about it, stops even bothering trying to explain what _it_ is. because there’s no words that will capture the essence of it as it is.

it’s an ache, a bruise that refuses to go away. it’s a stinging pain sometimes, a slap in the face. it’s a throbbing need, particularly when sam’s hurt or sick, when all he wants is for _it_ to never have happened so that he wouldn’t have to deal with it. it’s a dull, monotonous gnawing at the same old feelings over and over again. it’s all of this, but it’s none of it at the same time. it’s also a certain empty space that he tries to fill with other things, others, but it’ll never be truly filled the way it’s supposed to be. it’s a numbness at four in the morning when dean’s snoring in the front seat of the impala and sam’s wide awake in the back, wondering what it would’ve been like if _it_ hadn’t happened, hadn’t turned him into _it’s_ servant, his mood and thoughts at _it’s_ beck and call.

it’s the quiet that falls in the impala when dean mentions something offhand and sam realizes. it’s the way dean’s eyes will say _i’m so sorry, sam_ , but it’s too late, and sam will press his eyes closed against the influx of _it_.

 _it_ , sam supposes, is two things. it’s _it the event_ , and it’s _it the feeling_. the event is explainable. usually in blunt, short words. no sugarcoating. there’s nothing to sugarcoat. the feeling is what sam doesn’t know how to say. the feeling  is the ache, the sting, the gnawing, the numbness, the emptiness, all of it and none of it at once.

so he’s stopped trying.

he sees dean’s questions, sometimes, and he gives his brother a sad smile and turns away, because there’s no way to explain it in words.

the longing.

the _craving_.

the _need_ for something he’s never had.

something dean’s had, and thus, renders him unable to fully grasp at what _it_ is.

because he’s stopped talking about it, sam sometimes likes to think _it’s_ gone, but it’s very obviously not when it hits him again during quiet nights. in his dreams. in his nightmares. sometimes in the middle of the day over the most mundane of things.

he wishes someone understood. it’d make it just that much easier to bear if someone could share the burden with him, but it’s his, and his alone. sometimes he can’t tell where his burden ends and he begins.

that, dean tries to help with, and sometimes he succeeds. those are the nights that aren’t so bad, are pretty decent.  actually, most nights aren’t all that bad. it’s just that the ones that _are_ bad are pretty bad.

he wishes _it_ had never happened. wishes he didn’t have to deal with _it._

but he does.

and he keeps fighting, but it’s _hard_.

dean tells him he’s strong, and sam believes him.

to an extent.

sam’s strong, yeah, but he’s only so strong.

 

fin.

**Author's Note:**

> keep going, kiddo.
> 
> leave a comment or kudos if #AlwaysKeepFighting


End file.
